The Urban Survivalist Page 2

  “Secret?” The newbie tough had started out getting mad, but that slowly changed as Jason talked.

  The Scorpion’s hazel eyes held uncertainty in them now, but to Jason’s disappointment they didn’t betray the mentor’s location by so much as a flicker in another direction. All of a sudden, Jason was startled as the newbie tough roared and tried to bull rush him. But because the Scorpion was new to knife fighting, he started from too far away. That gave Jason plenty of time to dodge him like a bullfighter might. However, unlike a bull, the Scorpion spun around and slashed towards Jason’s belly, hoping for a quick hit. Jason had been ready for this, though, and he sucked his stomach in so that the knife missed. He dropped and rolled to the side, coming up to both feet in a knife-fighter’s crouch. He faced the newbie tough and pulled out his own weapon from under his shirt. Jason didn’t want to kill the idiot—just hurt him enough to make him run crying home to mama. Or run crying home to whomever. But Jason was not above saving his own life if the brainless Scorpion didn’t know when to stop.

  The newbie tough licked his lips nervously, eyeing Jason’s stance and the sharp metal in his hand that Jason wove in a figure eight pattern in the air between them. The fact that Jason was now armed seemed to give the Scorpion pause, evidenced by his nervous shifting from foot to foot.

  Jason tried again. “Hombre, you don’t have to do this. You don’t need the stinger on your patch. You’ll still be a part of your gang with or without it.”

  “How do you know about that?” the newbie tough asked incredulously.

  Jason snorted as he bluffed. “Do you think you’re the first guy who wanted to become a full Striking Scorpion that I’ve faced?”

  “Get him already, Matt!” came impatiently from somewhere nearby.

  So I was right about the mentor being here, Jason thought, although I can’t tell which way the voice came from.

  The newbie tough, Matt, lunged forward hesitantly in response. His hesitancy gave Jason plenty of time to block the striking arm with his empty hand. He then drove his knife into the meaty part of his attacker’s arm and followed it up with a quick, sharp slice across the forehead. Blood immediately ran down into the Scorpion’s eyes, partially blinding him.

  “Yargh!” Matt screamed, dropping his knife to clutch at his arm.

  Blood leaked out around his fingers as he fell to his knees. He had a scared look on his face as he cringed away from Jason to the roof’s edge.

  Yup, a high school bully and probably a dropout who never spent time on the streets. Probably mooched his way through life taking advantage of people where he could before hooking up with the Scorpions, Jason thought with scorn as he skittered around his downed attacker. Bet he dreams of becoming a senior gang member so he can bully lower ranked members in a bigger way.

  Jason leapt for the roof that would get him to the street, hoping that the mentor would be more concerned about the weak-sauce named Matt than about chasing him. Gotta remember to tell José when I get back that we need to change the street access route, Jason thought as he sailed across the empty space between the buildings. This way won’t be safe for a while now.

  A tough, beefy-looking white man appeared from behind a cracked roof chimney as Jason landed, intercepting Jason’s line of flight and making him skid to a stop.

  ¡Meirda! Looks like Rafe’s luck isn’t workin’ for me today, Jason thought anxiously.

  The Scorpion mentor was probably twenty-six or twenty-seven years old and bore scars on his bald head and neck that attested to the fact that he’d survived more than one gang melee.

  “Where you think you goin’?” the older Scorpion gang member asked nastily, flicking out a switchblade like Matt’s.

  Jason eyed the stinger proudly sewn into the patch on the other’s shoulder. That meant he was a full-blooded Striking Scorpion—not surprising for a mentor.

  “I think I’m going somewhere else to mind my own business,” said Jason as casually as he could, holding his bloody knife in a relaxed-but-ready position. He hoped the mentor couldn’t see the blood pounding from fear in the arteries of his neck.

  “I don’ think so. You gonna pay for whatcha did. Strike at a Scorpion, and the Scorpions strike back at you!” The senior gang member spat at him, lashing out quickly and forcing Jason to duck and roll out of the way.

  Jason instantly realized the mentor knew what he was doing with a knife, as the adult followed up his first attack with a couple of more swings. Jason continued to roll away until he got enough space to get up into his fighter’s crouch with his knife at the ready. The Striking Scorpion paused to assess Jason.

  Jason said, “You know, hombre, you have a choice—either fight me and let your Scorpion bleed to death over there, or go help him and leave me alone.”

  “How ’bout both?” the senior gang member sneered, slashing at Jason again.

  Jason avoided it and returned with an attack of his own at the Striking Scorpion’s knife arm, hoping to get his attacker to drop the switchblade. The mentor swore and jumped back out of reach.

  “Dan!” screamed Matt from the next-door roof. “I’m bleedin’ pretty bad; I think he hit somethin’ important. Help!”

  The Striking Scorpion looked torn, but a second and weaker call from his mentee made him snarl to Jason, “I’ll be lookin’ for you, asshole; you’d better believe this ain’t over!” He jumped to the other roof to help out his gang brother.

  Jason hotfooted it to the fire escape and made his way down the rackety iron stairs towards the public restroom, ducking inside as fast as he could. He ran into the handicapped stall and climbed up to hunker down on the toilet, waiting until his breathing slowed and he was sure that the pair of Scorpions weren’t going to come after him here.

  Good thing the mentor came to his senses! thought Jason when he climbed down from the toilet.

  Jason knew he’d hit the newbie tough a couple of good ones but was pretty sure he hadn’t nicked any major arteries or veins in the Scorpion’s arm. And if he had? Well, too bad for that wanna-be, then. The weak-sauce ass would probably never regain full use of the arm if he had hit something big, and that would mean one less gang member in New York City. Which wasn’t a bad thing.

  CHAPTER 3

  Soon Jason offhandedly walked under one of the archway entrances into Central Park. He was now clean, neat, and his curly black hair had been slicked back with water and combed into a style he didn’t usually sport. He wore a plain light grey polo shirt that complimented his bronzed skin, dark blue jeans, a nice leather belt, and white running shoes. With the string sack slung casually across one shoulder, he looked like he was a high school student out to get some exercise on this unseasonably warm Saturday in March. Jason strode casually along the path towards a different entrance than the one he’d come in by to disassociate himself with the entrance he’d used. When he reached a part of the Park that had more trees and bushes closer together, he waited for the perfect opportunity to slip off the path without anybody observing him.

  Once he was hidden from casual sight, Jason took out from his string sack the rest of what he’d packed this morning and put it on over what he was already wearing. He knew he would now look suspicious with his thick, oversized black hoodie cinched tightly about his face, a blue scarf covering his nose and mouth like a mask, and ragged stick-on patches that he’d slapped onto his jeans and running shoes to make them look worse than they actually were. Compared to the people he saw walking by on the path, with some of the braver ones even wearing shorts due to the warm weather, Jason knew he would look out of place. But that didn’t matter because half the disguise he now wore would be stuffed back into the string sack as soon as he hit the streets with whatever he managed to snatch. He carefully started working his way through the bushes to get closer to the nearest Park entrance and to settle into a hiding spot.

  Time rolled by as Jason waited for the perfect break and soon he saw it. A teenaged white girl wearing a black wool coat, a fuzzy black hat, a
nd oversized sunglasses walked quickly into the Park. She carried a leather duffel bag that Jason eyed with delight. The size of it promised that it could be worth his while. He watched as the girl ignored the walking path and strode up the grass straight for a tree not far from where he hid. To his surprise, though, she threw her arms around the trunk and hugged the tree hard.

  Is she crazy or something? Jason wondered.

  Sane or not, it was all the same to him. The contents of her carry-all mattered to him, not her state of mind. She stood pressing her cheek up against the tree for a good few minutes, then turned her back so it was still in contact with the tree while she slid down it to seat herself at its foot. She settled into a slouch with her duffel right beside her and shrugged off her coat, revealing a white t-shirt and decent jeans. Jason’s brown eyes widened in pleasure when the girl took out a tiny laptop from the duffel bag and started booting it up on her lap.

  That alone would get two loaded gift cards from Carlson and me back in José’s good graces. Wonder what else she’s got in there?

  While planning on how best to separate the girl from her bag, Jason saw a buff-looking, olive-skinned man, probably Italian, in red shorts and a tight t-shirt come into the Park. Unbelievingly, Jason watched him settle down on a towel not all that far away from him and the girl and strip off his shirt to tan. Jason shook his head. Okay, it was warm today, but it was still early March. But if the hombre wanted to catch a cold, that was his business. However, his proximity made him a factor if Shirtless Guy turned out to be one of those “rescuing” types. Just then both Jason and the white girl were startled by a harsh tone coming from the Park entrance.

  “There you are!” a feminine voice shouted angrily.

  An Asian girl wearing a lemon-yellow jacket, expensive-looking pants, and fashionable boots stood in the nearby Park entrance. Jason shrank back into the foliage, prepared to run away in case it was him she’d been shouting at. But it turned out he needn’t have worried. The new arrival wasn’t talking to him. She was yelling angrily at the white girl sitting under the tree. Jason watched, intrigued, as the tan-skinned girl, a pricey-looking bag as big as his target’s leather duffel slung over one shoulder, stormed over to the other teen. The fuzzy-hatted girl stuffed her laptop into her bag and scrambled to stand up while the angry fashion-plate came and planted herself, hands curled into fists at her side, in front of his original target.

  There’s definitely a computer in that leather duffel, and it’s no longer touching her. Can I sneak over through the bushes while they fight and get to the bag without them noticing? he wondered. But then, Miss High-and-Mighty looks rich. Which carry-all is the better target?

  “Found you!” the fashion-plate teen meanwhile snarled at the girl.

  “Why would you want to? And how’d you even know to look for me here anyway?” the other girl replied.

  “I saw you walk in here as my bus passed the entrance. I got off at the next stop and came back. You’ve caused me a lot of trouble today, and you’re going to pay for it!”

  His original target’s jaw dropped open. “What did I do?”

  “You always win! And to top it all off, now I’ve been suspended because of YOU!”

  “Now wait just a minute,” the white girl said, putting her hands on her hips and raising her voice. “You’re the one who tried to attack and hurt me after being disqualified. That’s against the rules! And you were the one who threw the helmet and broke the mirror, not me. I’ll bet that’s why you got suspended! Really, Heather, the fact that I won today can’t be the reason you went off the deep end. What gives?”

  The angry Heather slammed her pea-green designer bag to the ground and actually stomped her foot. “I didn’t go off the deep end. You cheated me—you had to! I was the best in class until you showed your stupid face at the Academy. I’ve tried every trick I know to beat you, and now I can’t come back for a month! It’s all your fault!”

  Jason looked from one girl to the other. The fashion-plate girl dressed like her parents had money. Logically, what would be in her carry-all bag would probably be worth more. However, his first target’s leather duffel was still tempting because he knew there was definitely a computer in there. Jason made the split decision to grab the green bag at a run and dash out of the Park to lose any pursuit by either girl on the busy New York streets. He was confident he could get away from just about anyone when he hit his stride. Suiting action to words, Jason leapt out, snatched up the abandoned bag, and turned to run.

  “No! My gear!” the fashion-plate teen wailed as she tried and failed to grab it back, tripping over herself in the process.

  The next thing Jason knew, pain exploded in the side of his head. He fell to the ground hard on his hands and knees, scooting a bit on the grass and losing his grip on the carry-all. The Asian girl didn’t waste the opportunity to get her bag back. She scooped it up and ran for the Park entrance like all the hounds of Hell were after her. Jason, a little disoriented, looked back over his shoulder and saw the white girl standing with the leather duffel still swinging in her hand. He realized what had happened—she’d clocked him!

  What? How dare she butt in?! I needed that!

  A growl of annoyance that Jason couldn’t stop rose in his throat, and the girl backed away from him a couple of steps.

  “I’ll get you for that!” Jason ground out and lunged for her and her bag. If he couldn’t have Miss High-and-Mighty’s carry-all, he’d take the white girl’s duffel as he’d originally planned.

  The girl darted back, swung her leather bag across both shoulders, spun about, and raced into the woods.

  “Hey!” a distant voice shouted.

  Jason looked back over his shoulder as he sprinted into the tree line after the girl. The tanning guy had gotten up from his towel and was running towards them. Jason ground his teeth. He’d forgotten about the sunbather, and to top it all off, the guy was one of those interfering rescuer types just as Jason had feared. Jason decided that he’d still go after the girl and get her duffel both as revenge and as repayment for costing him the other bag. If the guy caught up with Jason before he got to the girl, he would draw and use his knife to make Shirtless Guy back off. Jason tore deeper into the woods, hot on the girl’s trail. As he tried to catch her, he saw through the trees some distance away a strange mist begin to roll along the ground.

  What is that? Jason wondered, losing some of his anger and faltering a step or two. Is it some sort of freakish weather coming in or something else?

  Without losing any speed, the girl headed for it.

  Oh no you don’t, chica, he thought, following her.

  Footsteps behind him made Jason glance briefly over his shoulder. To his annoyance, Shirtless Guy still followed doggedly. Jason ignored the wanna-be hero, secure in his plan to deal with the situation if necessary. Twigs clutched and tore at Jason’s sleeves and pants as he sprinted in the girl’s wake. Low hanging branches knocked off first the girl’s sunglasses and then her hat, revealing a tightly woven dark blonde braid. It was too bad that she didn’t stop to pick either of them up—it would have made grabbing her bag a snap if she had. When he entered the fog some distance behind her, the mist grew thicker with each step. It got progressively harder to see. Strangely, sounds became muted—the girl’s footsteps were getting lighter and lighter, and even his own footsteps sounded less heavy. But no mutant weather system was going to stop him from gaining that leather duffel bag as profit and revenge. He didn’t want to fail José.

  “You won’t get away from me—I’m gonna teach you a lesson about buttin’ in!” Jason panted angrily, surprised that he hadn’t managed to catch up with her yet.

  Predator and prey continued running pell-mell further into the mist. The girl veered towards a glow that appeared ahead and off to the right and put on a burst of speed that left him temporarily behind. Jason stepped it up and crashed into a tiny clearing where there was a wavery light that looked like it was stretched between two massive oaks.
A cool blue-white in color, it had ripples of darker blues and brighter whites rolling from top to bottom. Somehow, mist poured out through the flickering light in thick clouds all around them, like the light was somehow hiding an industrial-sized fog machine.

  Jason was just in time to see the girl trip and fall towards the shimmering light. He leapt towards her as she fell, but the light flared as she touched it, and everything went white.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jason landed on his feet, completely blinded by mist. He couldn’t see a foot in front of his face. He thrust out his hands, waving them up and down in the air before him in search of the girl. She should be right in front of him. Or maybe he could find the machine that was making all this damned fog, so he could smash it. He swore when he didn’t find either one within a few steps then held his breath and listened hard. Everything was very quiet. He should have heard either the girl, the fog machine making noise, Shirtless Guy, traffic, or something. But he heard nothing.

  ¡Estupido clima! Hurry up and go away! he thought.

  He waited a couple of minutes more but realized the mist wasn’t going anywhere. Jason, slowly testing the ground before trusting his full weight to it, walked forward in the direction he faced. Soon he came out of a particularly thick patch of mist caught between two trees into a mist-free land. He goggled at what he saw. This area didn’t look anything like the Park woods where he’d been chasing that girl. And he knew for certain that the reservoir and the lakes of Central Park didn’t look anything like the body of water fifty feet in front of him. Was this a new part of the Park that hadn’t been opened to the public yet? He looked around quickly for his target, but she was nowhere to be seen. He looked behind him, but the mist had disappeared, too.

  “Maldito,” Jason swore out loud.

  Realizing that the girl was a lost cause, Jason pulled out his TracFone and saw with annoyance that he had no bars. He was in a dead zone of the Park.